


Musketeer Garrison, 16 September 1637

by Anima Nightmate (faithhope)



Series: All For One At War [23]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Cadets, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Franco-Spanish War, Gen, Intrigue, Military Training, Platonic Relationships, Politics, Some Historical Fudging, Thirty Years War, Training, Wartime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23930074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithhope/pseuds/Anima%20Nightmate
Summary: Pieces of plot are coming together, and Tréville’s reliance on Constance is made even more clear.*Another installment in the long series of pieces based around the black box that is the Musketeers during the Spanish War.
Relationships: Constance d'Artagnan & Treville
Series: All For One At War [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1137809
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Musketeer Garrison, 16 September 1637

“Minister!” She looks to feel unfairly flustered. “I’m sorry, were we to…?”

“I’m sorry to put you to an imposition, Madame. My morning constitutional took me further than I expected and I thought I would save you the trouble of coming to the Louvre.”

“Come downstairs,” she urges, eyes watchful above her social smile. “Since you’re here, I might as well show you what we’ve done with the Quartermaster’s section. Unless you’d like some refreshment after your long constitutional…?” His head shakes minutely and she nods in the same manner.

They skirt the court where Fabron has the lads at unarmed combat, throwing each other clumsily into straw palliasses. And more often than not, off them. “Pick him up!” she roars. “And aim better!”

“Yes, Madame d’Artagnan!”

She rolls her eyes as they enter the building, but he does not smile, just heads straight for the steps leading down to the stores and, without being prompted, around the corner and through an unassuming door.

“I take it you’ve been hard at training yourself, Madame?” he can’t help but ask. The padded mannequin in the corner has taken quite the beating, for sure, and metal weights with leather grips, of the kind Fabron favours, have been rolled into its lee.

“Can’t have it said I’m not willing to work as hard as my lads,” she returns, tartly.

“And who could say either way, Madame?” He regrets it as soon as it’s out of his mouth.

“Three code words and me not due to the Palace for two days,” she all-but snaps. “What’s wrong?”

He looks away, gaze scrolling across the ceiling, teeth grinding briefly. “I don’t know,” he admits.

Her eyes narrow for a pulse. “Go on,” she says, in a very measured tone.

“Firstly: what do you know of the Duchesse de Chevreuse?”

Her eyes narrow even further, then scroll to one side in recollection. “Marie de Rohan, has one son by former husband the Duc de Luynes, three daughters by her current husband. Can’t remember any of their names! Was very close to the Queen – before my time – and there was… well, she was banished after encouraging her – the Queen – to play a chasing game which… well, the Queen miscarried. She came back after her husband petitioned but… the King never trusted her again, so I hear.”

“That may also have to do with some of the plots in which she’s been involved against him or The Cardinal,” he says, heavily.

“Oh. Yes, that would do it. Which ones?”

“If you can think of one, she was probably involved; in fact: most likely the instigator.”

“Oh.” He can see her thinking. Her eyes return to his. “But she isn’t here any more. At least: not at court.”

“No, but she is in enthusiastic correspondence with several who are.”

“Including…?”

“To one account at least: the Marquis de Cinq-Mars.”

“Ah.”

“She also numbers among her friends Gaston, duc d’Orléans.”

“Oh, _him_.”

“Quite.”

A pause. “What else, Minister?”

He smiles drily at her. “Two weeks ago, the young Marquis requested he be given a military position in the Army, more in keeping with his prowess.”

“His _what?_ ”

“Quite. He made an interesting showing as a titular commander in a small skirmish recently, but he’s far too young, and besides, not trained to it.”

“So you said no.”

“I did.”

“What did the King say?”

“Nothing to me on the matter.”

“I see. I mean: the Governorship would be, essentially, a military position.”

“Quite.”

“Is he fed up of waiting?”

“Difficult to say.”

They stand in silence for a moment. “And?” she says, raising her eyebrows.

Another flinch of a smile. “Last week, the Marquis requested he be given men-at-arms to accompany him. I enquired as to the necessity. Remaining unconvinced, I accompanied him to see the King about this.”

“How did he take it?”

He examines the ceiling, rocks on his feet, hands behind his back. “Were I to pick one word, it would be ‘impatiently’.” Also _petulantly_ , but even here he can’t quite bring himself to say such a thing.

“Ah. So the Marquis got his men?”

“Two, yes.”

Her expression sharpens. “And do I know either of them?”

“I think you might be familiar with Erwan, yes.”

She outright smirks. “Not overly, but I get the impression that he’s rather observant.”

He takes a deep breath. “Observant enough.”

“Good.”

They stand, blinking at each other for a while. “Minister,” she says, very gently. “How can I help you in this?”

He sighs. “I think, perhaps, Madame, for the moment I need to know that another person, whom I trust implicitly, knows so much of what I know about this matter. And maybe…” he feels his face screw to one side, “that person could mull these things over, offer any further insights they might glean concerning these events.”

Her smile is wry. “In other words: you’d like me to make enquiries in my own way. Hence coming to see me before my usual visit to the Palace.”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all. Though this may mean becoming reacquainted with Madame de Motteville, and possibly Madame de Beauvilliers, which may see me asking for a favour of my own.”

“Would this _favour_ touch upon the safety of the realm, Madame?” it’s only half a chide, though how much of the rest is actually a joke, it’s hard even for him to say.

“No,” she answers, slowly. “Though you never know how taking a young man under the wing of the regiment might pan out as far as that kind of thing is concerned.” She gives him a limpid look he returns drily.

“Very well. Though I take it this isn’t the Petit Chevalier.”

“No indeed. I’ll talk to you about it soon, maybe when I next visit the Palace?”

“Madame,” he answers, in a considering tone, examining the ceiling again, thinking this through as he goes, “there is, as you say, nothing new in the world, especially when it comes to the recruitment and training of beardless boys bent on a new life. I feel, very certainly,” and he bends his gaze back to hers, “that you have my full confidence in whatever this matter may… turn out to be, and, whatever you decide, I’ll back it to the hilt.”

She beams at him. “Very good, then. I’ll be measuring them for those doublets soon. Eriq was pleased to get the commission.”

“I’m sure he was.”

“Would that be all, Minister?”

“For the moment, yes, Madame.”

“Will you take any refreshment now, or am I walking you to the gate?”

He pauses, more tempted than he can say.

“It’s Serge’s baking day,” she goes on. “And it was quite a walk to take so unexpectedly…”

He can’t help but smile at that. “Very well. It would positively be an insult to pass up such an opportunity.”

“Exactly.” She ushers him to the door and they slip out together, regaining the autumn sunshine for a clamorous moment before finding their way to Serge’s fresh creations and a mug of small beer.

**Author's Note:**

> In another installment of "Anima narrowly avoids ranting in the main story about the BBC’s erasure of marginalised voices in history", I bring you a tantalising glimpse of [Marie de Rohan, Duchesse de Chevreuse](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marie_de_Rohan). Tréville isn’t exaggerating here when he says that she has been involved in/ central to pretty much every noble plot against Louis (and, of course, were it not for Doctor Who, Richelieu). In fact, the sheer number of influential, ambitious women who were instrumental in the political life of France at the time who _weren’t_ mentioned by the BBC’s adaptation (or, presumably, by Dumas) is _staggering_ , let alone them introducing a [Ninon de l’Enclose](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ninon_de_l%27Enclos)-based character in Ninon de Larroque in order to make her a man’s brief love interest before stripping her of money and influence, two of the main things for which she was famed and fought hard to maintain.
> 
> [breathe, Anima]
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this wee snippet of intrigue.


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